


there's a universe inside of you

by invaderssayni



Series: it's times like these [6]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: (both performed and mentioned), Cooking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hand Jobs, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, References to Canon, are also a thing that i forgot about whoops, i apologise for a thing i did that's a spoiler but it Had To Be Done, look at that we finally got past a t rating imagine that, mentions of family backstory, mildly explicit content, six whole parts and i still don't know how tagging works i'm so done, this is pretty much entirely fluff y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 13:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14165568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invaderssayni/pseuds/invaderssayni
Summary: "Bianca’s working for Juniper now, and Touko’s on some sort of self-imposed mission to beat every league champion in the world, and Touya’s going to go running off after N… and here I am, the only one of us who had a goal to start with, and I’ve got nothing. That’s part of why I wanted to sort of redo my journey, but I’ve done it, and still the only thing I’m sure about is that I’m in love with you.”





	there's a universe inside of you

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Easter, y'all! What d'you know, I finally got part six done, imagine that!
> 
> Special thanks to Anna, Wallace, and Niles for stepping up and helping me out while my regular beta was out of commission, and to all my readers, particularly those who leave kudos and comments! I love all of you, and I would've never gotten this far without you!
> 
> (And just as a heads-up, if you're not comfy with vaguely lewd content, just skip the section that begins "So, I have to ask, why Floccesy?", the rest should be fine though. Cheers!)

Awareness comes slowly, in brief flashes. 

A cold breeze on his face and a solid warmth behind him — it’s too hot under layers of blankets, and he wriggles out of his jeans, kicking them to the floor — an arm flung easily around his waist and quiet snores in his ear, and he smiles as he is pulled back under —

Cheren blinks, disoriented. He blinks again. All he can see is grey, and he can't breathe very well and oh gods now he's panicking — he rears back abruptly —

Oh. He exhales slowly as a faded red logo comes into view on the sea of grey. It’s just a shirt. He must have been using Alder as a pillow again, he thinks with relief. His head still feels like it's full of cotton, and he briefly considers giving up and going back to sleep, but… he brings his arm up to his face and taps his xtransciever to make it light up, squinting at the tiny screen. 

06:25. Saturday. 

He grumbles to himself and begins the arduous task of untangling himself from sheets and blankets and limbs, figuring two days in bed is probably more than enough. Eventually he manages to free himself, in spite of a still-sleeping Alder’s best attempts to keep snuggling, grabs his glasses off the bedside table, and goes in search of a kitchen. Hopefully one containing a coffee maker and something that isn’t powdered mix — or worse, one of those abominable single-cup machines. 

After a few wrong turns into rooms full of unpacked boxes (and a bathroom, which he immediately decides is next on the agenda), the hallway leads him to a cute, brightly coloured kitchen, complete with — praise Arceus — a normal drip coffee maker. He finds a brown paper bag on the counter containing an airtight container of ground coffee and, miraculously, there is an unopened, unexpired bottle of moomoo milk in the fridge. Unfortunately, there’s nothing that could be considered food. He stares out the kitchen window while he waits for the coffee to brew, watching the snow fall and seriously considering whether that old Sinnohese fruitcake Professor Juniper’s dad gave everyone is actually edible.

Ah, well. He shrugs and pours himself a cup of coffee before slouching off to the bathroom. He can worry about that after a nice, hot shower.

 

_Cheren steps outside, slinging his bag over a shoulder, and begins walking towards the edge of town. It feels so strange being back home again. And yet, it feels almost stranger thinking of Nuvema as home now. After everything he’s been through over the last year, after what happened last week, even... He stares up at the overcast sky as he walks, lost in thought._

_“Hey, Cherry! Where’ve you been, man?”_

_He jumps, and looks around to see Touya standing on the sidewalk with Bianca, waving exuberantly. He waves back in acknowledgement, hurrying over._

_“Dude, you would not believe the day I’ve had,” Touya complains to him, running a hand through his hair. “I go downstairs to make a sandwich, and I’ve got two moms smiling at me from the kitchen table!”_

_“Oh, I didn’t even know your mom was dating anyone,” he says in surprise. “What’s she like?”_

_“Wha— no, Cherry, I mean there was two of my mom in the kitchen!”_

_Cheren blinks. “Wait, what?”_

_“There was a man from Interpol disguised as my mother!” Touya exclaims, throwing his hands in the air in disgust. “He tells me happy holidays, the Plasma Sages all got broken out of prison, and, oh, could I possibly track them down? But, you know, he gave me a damn fishing rod as compensation, so that makes it okay!”_

_“That’s bullshit,” Cheren says sympathetically. “How is that your job? They could at least pay you money.”_

_“Right? That’s what I said!” Bianca chimes in. “Like, haven’t you guys done enough? It’s not like it’s your fault.”_

_Cheren winces and bites his lip._

_Touya sighs. “Cheren…”_

_“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! The Shadows, er, created an opening, apparently, and well… they sort of… helped Ghetsis escape.”_

_“How’d that happen?” Bianca asks, a concerned look on her face._

_“One of them drugged me,” he grumbles, absently rubbing the back of his neck. “One minute I’m trading insults with Ghetsis and the next I’m flat on the floor. I was out for two whole days! He’d better have left Unova, because if I ever see him again, I’m going to kill him.”_

_“Please, that’s not your fault,” Touya says, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, where were you for the eight days you weren’t unconscious? Neither of us have seen you around. Ooh, were you hanging around the League’s beach house out on the coast?”_

_“That isn’t a thing, Touya,” he says, snickering. “Just because Cynthia has a beach house doesn’t mean everyone does. I’ve been in Floccesy.”_

_Touya makes a face. “Ew, Arceus, why? What the hell’s in Floccesy besides the ranch? Were you petting mareeps all week?”_

_Cheren smiles enigmatically at them, then attempts to change the subject. “So, B, you’re working with Juniper now, right?”_

_“Oh, no, you don’t,” Touya cuts in. “Spill. What’s in Floccesy?”_

_“Mareeps,” he says innocently._

_“Oh, come on!” he whines. “My boyfriend fucked off to parts unknown, let me live vicariously through you!”_

_“What am I, a ducklett?” Bianca grumbles._

_“You don’t have a boyfriend. He does,” Touya explains succinctly. “Now spill.”_

_“You have a boyfriend?” she gasps._

_Cheren narrows his eyes at Touya. “Just for that, you need to call your sister to get any details. And I mean_ call _, as in actually talking with your voice, not texting.”_

_“You told her before you told me? Dude!”_

_“I didn’t have much of a choice,” he says ruefully. “She took one look at me and she knew. You want people to tell you things, answer your phone once in a while.”_

_“Excuses!”_

_“Boys!” Bianca exclaims, waving her arms. “Is anyone going to bother telling me anything, or should I just go ahead to Aurea’s and leave you two to bicker in the street?”_

_“Uh… sorry, B,” Cheren says sheepishly. “Yes, I’m sort of seeing someone. It’s… fairly serious? So you’ll all probably be meeting him officially at some point. You know, as my, uh… person that I fully intend to spend the rest of my life with, you’ve already met him. Well, briefly, anyway. So.”_

_Bianca tilts her head in confusion. “That… didn’t really help.”_

_“It’s Alder,” Touya adds helpfully._

_She laughs. “Yeah, I already know about his huge celebrity crush, I mean who is he_ dating _?”_

_Touya and Cheren look at each other._

_A beat, then: “You’re_ dating _the_ champion _?!” Bianca shrieks._

_“D’you want to say that a little louder, maybe, I don’t think they heard you IN SINNOH!”_

_“Cheren, he’s, like, twice your age!” she exclaims._

_Cheren shrugs. “I don’t care. I mean, I’m not wild about the idea that he’s gonna die twenty years before me, but for all I know I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, so…”_

_Bianca makes a noncommittal noise, staring at him intently. Finally, she asks, “Does he make you happy?”_

_“He really does,” he says. “I love him. He’s so…” Cheren trails off, grinning. “He’s genuinely the most wonderful person I’ve ever met, and I can’t wait to marry him one day.”_

_“Well, that’s alright, then,” Bianca says. “But if he ever does anything…”_

_“Save the shovel talk for when he’s here to hear it, B,” Touya says, snickering._

_“I’m just saying,” she replies, raising her hands. “And don’t tell me Touko didn’t say the exact same thing.”_

_“No, she just made a stupid joke about not being able to call me Cherry anymore,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But then, she’s met him before —”_

_Touya gasps. “You slept with him? Dude! What was it like? Tell me everything!”_

_“Well, would you look at the time, bye guys!” Bianca says quickly, scooting off to the lab._

_“Take me with you!” Cheren calls after her, stretching out his arm helplessly as Touya continues to rattle off rapid-fire questions, none of which Cheren intends to answer._

 

Cheren sits on the bed and absently scrolls through the missed messages on his phone. Touko’s called him about ten times in the last two days, not to mention all the texts: “where r u?????? where’s lil bro????? b doesnt know no ones answering call me!!!!!!! tell bro to call me!!!!! what happened??????” There’s a few from Bianca along the same lines (albeit with more emoticons and better spelling), and even one from his mother asking if he’ll be coming home this week, too. (He barks out an incredulous laugh. Not a chance, mom.) He types out a response to Touko: “sorry idk where he is, will tell him to call if i see him. no idea where i am either but i’m okay, going back to bed though so tell b i’m fine & acct’d for. how’s kalos? beaten their champ yet?”

Cheren puts his phone on silent and lays it back on the nightstand, his gaze softening as he takes in the wild mass of fiery red hair sticking out from under the pile of blankets. He just… he can’t bring himself to wake Alder up knowing he’s gotten about two hours of sleep in as many weeks, and even if he hadn't, he looks too adorable sleeping for Cheren to want to disturb him. On the other hand, there’s not really a lot he can do until Alder does wake up... 

He shrugs and crawls back under the blankets, snuggling up to the man’s back. At least he showered, and he made coffee. That's something.

A few hours later, he opens his eyes to sunlight streaming in through the window and a scruffy man nuzzling his neck. 

“Hey, you,” Alder mumbles sleepily into Cheren’s collarbone.

“Morning,” Cheren replies with a yawn, absently playing with the man’s hair. “There's no food in the kitchen, if you were wondering.”

“I’d be more surprised if there was,” he says thoughtfully, “seeing as how I haven't been here in maybe… two years?”

Cheren frowns. “Then why was there milk in the fridge?”

“Because I called Anna and begged her to do me a favour about five minutes before I passed out,” he explains sheepishly, sitting up. 

Cheren raises an eyebrow, letting his hand fall away. “And she just drops everything and brings coffee and milk to… wherever the hell we are?”

“She only lives in Castelia, it's not that far to Floccesy,” he says with a shrug. “Plus the university’s closed this time of year, so…” Alder pauses. “I’ll bring her and the bean a cake, or something. Maybe send an edible arrangement.”

“Don't even talk about food,” Cheren groans. “I can't remember the last time I ate something other than a ragecandybar.”

“Give me… twenty minutes, maybe? I’ll have a shower, and then we'll go get…” Alder trails off, glancing around the room for a clock. “Breakfast? Lunch? And also, groceries.”

“Especially groceries,” Cheren agrees. “I wanted to make you breakfast this morning.”

Alder looks back at him, surprise melting into an affectionate grin. “ _Babe_. I didn’t know you could cook!”

“Neither of my parents can, so my choices were to learn, or live on microwave dinners and takeout,” he says with a dismissive shrug. “Cooking was the less depressing option.”

“Sweetheart. Darling. Light of my life. Marry me.”

Cheren rolls his eyes. “Save the food-related marriage proposals until after I’ve actually cooked you something.”

“But I can propose marriage for other reasons?”

Cheren wordlessly points in the general vicinity of the bathroom, and Alder laughs.

“Alright, alright,” he says easily. “Shower, then food, then marriage.”

What a ridiculous man he has chosen to love, Cheren thinks fondly as he watches him leave.

 

_“So I beat Diantha a few days ago — which, I recommend meeting her if you can, by the way, ten outta ten, very cool lady — and guess what!” Touko rattles off the minute Cheren answers the call._

_“Uh…” He genuinely has no idea. “You decided to stay in Kalos?”_

_She laughs. “Please, like I’m staying anywhere. I’ve only beaten two champions! I want to — oh my gosh!”_

_Cheren squints at the small screen in confusion. “What?”_

_“Holy shit, Cherry lost his cherry!” Touko exclaims gleefully. “Now what are we supposed to call you?”_

_He blinks, startled. “How in the hell...?!”_

_“Please, it’s obvious,” she says, waving a hand. “Alder, right? I bet he was a real gentleman about it, too. Congrats on catching your champion!”_

_“Hey!” he protests. “I mean… you’re not wrong, though. He’s just… a genuinely sweet guy, and…” Cheren trails off with a wistful sigh, then shakes his head. “But, sorry, enough about me. What’s next after Kalos?”_

_“Well! They have this thing, right, in the south of Kalos called the battle chateau, and I was hanging out there but yesterday I met this badass lady and when she heard I was from Unova she asked if I knew Caitlin and, long story short, she was the Sinnoh champion and she challenged me so I’m going over there next!”_

_“Sinnoh?_ You? _” he asks incredulously._

_“What’s wrong with Sinnoh?” she demands._

_“Well, nothing, but…” He hesitates. “Do you even own any pants? Because the entire northern part of the region is constantly covered in snow, some of it’s waist-deep all year long, and you’ll have to go through it because there’s a gym there.”_

_She makes a dismissive noise. “So I’ll raise a fire type and burn a path with flamethrower.”_

_Cheren laughs. “Oh, Touko. Never change.”_

_“Yeah, yeah. What about you? Still planning to put your future husband out of a job?”_

_“With all the paperwork he’ll be stuck doing after the Plasma Incident, he’d probably thank me,” he says wryly. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about some things, and… I don’t know.”_

_“Oh, man, Cherry’s been philosophising,” she teases him. “Come on, lay it on me, bro. What’s up?”_

_“It’s like…” He frowns, trying to organise his thoughts. “The difference between wanting to be strong just so you can say, you know, look at me, I’m a badass or whatever, and wanting to be strong for a purpose. Like, to protect the people you care about, or to be able to accomplish some goal, or for self-improvement…” He laughs self-deprecatingly. “But you’re right, it’s all just armchair philosophy.”_

_“No, I get you,” Touko says, suddenly serious. “Like, you’ve gotta be sure you're doing it for the right reasons, or else it's not gonna make you happy.”_

_“Something like that.” He shrugs. “But either way, I’ve got time.”_

 

“So, I have to ask. Why Floccesy?”

Alder makes a noncommittal noise, pulling Cheren closer to compensate for the necessity of removing his face from his shoulder. “Honestly?” he murmurs. “I just wanted somewhere for Anna to put all my stuff after the divorce went through, since at that point I had no plans to return to civilisation. I’d have been happy with a storage locker — I never actually intended to live here — but it’s just as well, really, since I never got around to finding somewhere else.” He shifts in an approximation of a shrug. “Helps it’s on the opposite end of Unova from both the League and Lentimas.”

“Which would be why there’s dozens of unpacked boxes strewn all over the house?”

“Mmm. Like I said. I don’t really live here, only my stuff does.” He apparently believes that settles the matter, because not even a moment later his face is back to being buried in Cheren’s neck.

Cheren giggles (and he _will_ admit to that, because Alder’s perpetually scruffy facial hair tickles something fierce, and that’s totally the only reason). “What is your obsession with my neck? It’s like I’m in bed with a vampire,” he teases him.

“Are you complaining?” he murmurs, softly nipping his neck, then abruptly freezes. “Wait, seriously though, are you?”

“Only that the rest of me’s feeling a little left out,” he replies lightly. 

“I think we can do something about that,” Alder says, and rolls over.

“That... is the opposite of what I wanted, actually,” Cheren says, turning to see what the hell he thinks he's doing, only to see Alder pulling his shirt over his head. “Never mind, carry on,” he continues weakly, eyes wide.

“Thought so,” he says with a grin, flinging the shirt into a corner. He settles between Cheren’s legs and rests his head on his chest, looking up at him expectantly. “Any requests?”

Cheren inhales sharply, suddenly very aware of how close they are. “I…” He trails off, unable to focus on anything other than the warm, gentle pressure on his body, and the playful, heated look in Alder’s eyes. “Rain checks?” He manages finally, and it seems to be a reasonable approximation of English because Alder smiles softly at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he can’t breathe for a moment. 

“Tell me if you don't like something, yeah?”

He breathes out a laugh, propping himself up slightly so he can kiss Alder. “I don’t like that we’re still wearing clothes,” he says after a moment.

“Right to the point,” Alder laughs, toying with the hem of Cheren’s shirt.

“You asked,” he says unrepentantly. 

“Sit up, then,” he replies agreeably, gesturing vaguely with one hand. Cheren does so just long enough for Alder to pull his shirt off — or rather, for him to run his hands over Cheren's torso, slowly pushing his shirt up as he goes, tugging it over his head almost as an afterthought. He brushes a soft kiss on Cheren's collarbone, and murmurs, “Okay?”

“Mmm.” Cheren grins and flops back onto the pillow, absently running a hand through Alder’s hair. “Keep going.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” Alder briefly makes eye contact, smiling back at him before returning to his previous task of exploring the younger man’s body. He doesn’t let up, either; he takes his time carefully mapping out Cheren’s most sensitive spots with lips and teeth and gentle hands. And fuck, but Cheren’s already feeling a little overwhelmed; sure, this isn’t anything they haven’t done before, but somehow it feels like more, here, like an introduction rather than a destination.

He supposes belatedly that it also might have something to do with the fact that last time they did this, Alder was… _distracted_ , to say the least. Even so, Cheren’s getting the impression that he has some sort of intentions beyond simple exploration.

He closes his eyes for a moment and grins. It’s about damn time.

Then Alder is looking at him, a hand resting gently on his waistband.

“Can I…?” He asks softly.

“Course,” Cheren breathes, then nudges him lightly. “Yours too. I want… well, a lot of things, really, but right now I want you, in me, as soon as reasonably possible.”

Alder looks at him, assessing. “You’re sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he assures him. “I mean, take your time about it, obviously, but… please?”

He exhales slowly, stroking Cheren’s hipbone with his thumb. “Well, when you say it like that,” he says in a rough voice. “Just tell me when you want me to stop.”

Cheren wants to say that he doesn’t foresee that being a problem, but wanting confirmation that his already enthusiastic consent continues to remain valid is just so quintessentially Alder that all he can do is smile at him and say simply, “I love you.”

Alder buries his face in Cheren’s stomach, nuzzling at the soft flesh, and Cheren’s breath hitches. 

“I need you to let me know how you’re doing, I wanna take care of you,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down to where Cheren’s sleep pants are riding low on his hips. “I want to make this good for you — up a minute, love.” 

With a bit of effort — it takes Cheren a moment to realise he needs to actually help out here — they manage to get the remainder of Cheren’s clothing off, and for a moment Alder just looks at him with something that might be _reverence._

“Gods, you’re so… You’re absolutely sure —” he begins hoarsely, but Cheren cuts him off.

“Alder, I love you, I really do, but if you don’t hurry up I think I might literally die so would you _please_ get on with it?” he says in a strained voice. 

Alder huffs out a distracted laugh, running his hands over slim hips and looking at him as if mesmerised. “You’re not gonna die, sweetheart. I’ve got you, just let me…”

Cheren bites his lip and stares resolutely at the ceiling because actually, he’s pretty sure he is going to die — of embarrassment, in about two minutes, if nothing else. He does _not_ want to be that stereotype, but at the same time, Alder _really_ knows what he’s doing, and... A little desperately, he starts mentally reciting the recipe for his grandmother’s solstice cake.

Then he feels a tongue licking a stripe up his cock and he gasps, bucking his hips. Yeah, even reciting it in the original _Koukan_ isn’t gonna help him here. “Alder,” he manages to get out, a hand reaching helplessly down towards where the older man is doing absolutely _amazing_ things with his mouth, holy fuck —

One of Alder’s hands grabs his and he pulls back, leaving a soft kiss on Cheren’s thigh as he switches to slow strokes with his spare hand. “You’re alright, love,” he murmurs in his deep, reassuring voice. “Gods, you’re beautiful like this. I could do this for hours, I really could, I wanna learn you by heart — ”

Whether it’s the warm affection in Alder’s voice, or the motion and friction of his hand, or simply the fact that Cheren’s inexperienced and Alder’s absurdly attractive and he’s only human, he couldn’t say. All he knows is that suddenly, it’s all too much, and he’s vaguely aware of making a soft keening noise as his vision whites out and he topples over the edge.

He comes back to himself a second-moment-lifetime later absolutely _mortified_ , and he pulls a pillow over his face, muffling a distressed whine. Seriously, that was what, two minutes? Tragic. There goes his dignity. 

“Well, that’s flattering,” Alder says, clearly amused, and Cheren makes a disgruntled noise. “Oh, love...”

“Kill me now,” Cheren grumbles. “Just put me in the dirt, honestly, I cannot _believe_ —”

“Gods, you’re so cute,” he murmurs. “I love you so much, just…” He licks Cheren’s belly; the younger man twitches, gasping out a moan, and Alder huffs out a breathless laugh onto his skin. “Said I was gonna take care of you,” he continues. “Never said you were only gonna come once.”

“Fuck,” Cheren breathes, eyes wide.

“That too,” Alder says genially. Cheren throws a pillow at him.

 

 

_“I miss you.”_

_A warm chuckle floods the speaker. “It’s been less than a week, sweetheart.”_

_Cheren makes a noncommittal noise. “I guess I figured that as long as I could get in contact with you, it’d be fine? But no, here I am lying awake at a Pokémon Center at three in the morning.”_

_“To be fair, I’m lying awake on the couch in my office at three a.m.”_

_He sighs. “I don’t know. It’s like… I can feel your absence, or something. I don’t like it.”_

_“Aww, you do love me.”_

_Cheren rolls his eyes. “Obviously. I just spent eight whole days doing nothing but telling you how much I love you.”_

_“Hey, it’s nice to be reminded, you know?” Silence, then: “What if we just… weren’t on opposite sides of the region? Maybe if I’m not here it’ll force the others to at least pretend to care about getting things done.”_

_Cheren laughs. “No, we’re going to carry on like this until we’re done with our separate things, because I still maintain that it’ll be good for us in the long run. I need to do this retracing my path thing, and there’s you drowning in paperwork, so…”_

_“Well, you’re not wrong. I’m on the verge of quitting, if I’m honest. It’s bad over here.”_

_Silence, then: “Do you want to talk about it?”_

_“It’s just… they’re all great type specialists, yeah? Practically unbeatable, which is fantastic, and that’s what they’re paid to do, but they couldn’t be bothered helping out two weeks ago, and they’re not helping at all now, and there’s only so much I can push off on my secretary because everything requires my signature in triplicate, and I can’t see over the paperwork on my desk and I’m sleeping in my office because the pile just keeps growing and —”_

_“Alder,” Cheren interrupts, sensing an impending meltdown. “Deep breaths. Relax. Breathe in… and breathe out. And in…” He repeats this until he hears Alder’s breathing even out. “Do you need me to fly up there and forge your signature on a few hundred forms?”_

_Alder laughs weakly. “Well, if you’re offering, I won’t turn it down, but you’ve got better things to do than… well, this. Hell, I have better things to do than this, but I don’t have much of a choice.”_

_“What, I can’t want to help you out?” Cheren objects. “I mean, I know we’re not actually married yet, but as far as I’m concerned ‘for better or worse’ still stands.”_

_“Yet?” Alder asks, suddenly much perkier._

_“Yes, yet, you ridiculous man,” Cheren says, laughing. “I have every intention of marrying you one day, just not, you know, now. If for no other reason than my family would kill me if I eloped with no warning.”_

_“Fair enough,” he says, sounding much more satisfied with the world than he was five minutes ago. “I dunno, I’m hoping that between me and Jan we can knock it all out. If, you know, we do literally nothing else until it’s done, and nothing else is found to be structurally unsound… We’ve been ordering pizza to the league for the last five days, that’s how busy we’ve been.”_

_“You are taking breaks, though, right? Like, at least a few minutes every hour or so? You’re not just incessantly signing your name for sixteen hours a day?”_

_Silence._

_“Of course,” Alder says unconvincingly. “I’m definitely doing things that are not that.” A pause. “I mentioned I’m eating, right?”_

_Cheren sighs in exasperation. “Alder, I love you, really I do, but if you have a heart attack and die because you’re overworking yourself, I’m going to go to Kalos and find Xerneas so I can bring you back to life and kill you myself.”_

_He laughs. “I’m not sure if I should find that sweet or terrifying.”_

_“I think ‘yes’ is the answer to that?” Cheren says sheepishly. “I’m sorry, it’s late, and I worry.”_

_“I know, sweetheart, it’s fine,” Alder says, still clearly amused. “Try to get some sleep, yeah?”_

_“You too. Get a real phone sometime so I can actually see you.”_

_“You say that, but I had a pager when I first became champion, so in comparison…”_

_“And I bet you answered it as much as you answer that ancient flip phone you have now.”_

_“I pitched it off a cliff,” Alder admits, and Cheren laughs. “But hey, I always pick up for you.”_

_Which is actually true, and that realisation takes Cheren by surprise considering that everyone (including Alder) always comments about how trying to get hold of him is like herding jumpluffs. “Aw, you do love me,” he says softly with what he is certain is the world’s stupidest grin on his face._

_“He says, as though this is brand new information.”_

_“It’s three a.m., leave me alone,” Cheren says, laughing. “I need to sleep.”_

_“Yeah, me too.” A sigh. “Night, sweetheart. Talk soon?”_

_“Course. Goodnight.”_

_They hang up, and Cheren lets his arm fall to the side as he stares up at the ceiling._

_He later realises that he fell asleep still holding his phone, and he slept through all his alarms. Still worth it._

 

 

“Traditionally, shouldn’t I be the one doing that?” Alder asks as he walks into the kitchen.

“Tell me how to make oyakodon and I’ll let you take over,” Cheren replies easily, whisking something in a bowl. 

Alder blinks. “I have no idea what that is,” he admits. 

“I didn’t think so.” He pauses to flip some pieces of chicken in a pan. “It’s one of those quintessential comfort food dishes that every grandma makes. Chicken, egg, rice, the magical seasoning mixture that’s in every Koukan dish ever… you can add other things, I put in leeks, and sometimes mushrooms just because I like mushrooms, but those are the basic things that go in it.” 

“I was wondering what all that was for,” Alder says, leaning on the counter to watch.

“Course, Baachan would have my head if she knew I was using instant dashi,” he says wryly as he pours the egg mixture in the pan and quickly covers it. “But it should still taste alright, and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” 

“Not like I’ll know the difference either way,” he says with a shrug.

“Don’t tell her that, she’ll take any excuse to expound at length about the dying art of true Koukan home cooking. Between her going on about the evils of powdered stock and my cousin the sushi chef lecturing me about how to make rice properly, every summer was like cooking boot camp.”

Alder laughs. “At least you can cook, though,” he points out. “My mom never bothered to teach me. Although, to be fair, I left home at sixteen, and when I came back five years later I was engaged. I learned everything I know from watching the food channel.”

Cheren makes a vague noise of acknowledgement, plating the completed dish and handing a bowl to Alder. “Try that and tell me if it’s any good.”

Alder rummages around in drawers for a few moments until he finds a fork. Cheren busies himself with cleaning up the kitchen, too nervous to watch him.

“Babe,” Alder says seriously after a moment’s silence.

“Mmm?” He says vaguely, not looking up from the sink.

“Marry me.”

Cheren rolls his eyes, but actually, he’s quite pleased with that response. “It’s alright, then?”

“I’m sending your grandmother a fruit basket,” Alder says emphatically, waving his fork in the air. “Is that the same stuff they use for ramen eggs? Because that’s what this reminds me of.”

“I’m pretty sure shoyu, mirin, sake, and dashi are involved in ramen, yes,” he says, amused. “If I’d known you were this easily impressed, I’d have just thrown takikomi gohan in the rice cooker and gone back to bed.”

Alder waves it off. “Please, you could’ve made toast and I’d be thrilled. Not that this isn’t genuinely delicious, but…” He pauses. “I appreciate the gesture, is all. Even if I was going to make you waffles.”

Cheren pauses. “Wait, you were?”

“Post-sex breakfast. It may be seven at night, but… tradition.”

Cheren rolls his eyes fondly. “So wake me up with waffles in the morning. Oh, there’s an idea: breakfast in bed.”

“Not as great as it’s made out to be. Crumbs get everywhere. And I mean everywhere.”

“So leave out the waffles and just bring me whipped cream and strawberries,” he says with a shrug. 

Alder laughs. “Still messy, but significantly more fun. Hardly qualifies as breakfast, though.”

He considers this for a moment, then grins as an idea occurs to him. “My way first, then you can make proper food after.”

“There’ll need to be a shower in there, too. I wasn’t kidding about the mess,” he comments, frowning down at his now empty bowl.

“A joint shower?” Cheren asks innocently.

“If you’d like.” 

“I absolutely would.”

“I’ll see what I can do, then,” Alder says playfully. “Any other requests, sweetheart?”

“Just one,” he says simply before pulling him down into a kiss.

 

 

_Cheren rolls off his unfezant and returns him to his pokeball in one fluid motion, striding past the League guards with his head held high and a determined expression._

_(He will later bemoan the fact that he’s probably never done anything that badass in his life, and he was too pissed off to appreciate it.)_

_“There’s no point going that way,” a soft voice calls from his right, and he glances over to see Caitlin exiting her battle room. “The champion’s battle room is closed off; the damage made it structurally unsound. He’s in his office.”_

_“How did you…” Cheren blinks, then he realises. “Oh, right. Psychic.”_

_“No, he just never shuts up about you,” she says with a yawn. “But I suppose I can forgive you. Even though it means I can no longer sleep through League meetings.”_

_“Truly an unspeakable tragedy,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Where’s Alder’s office, though?”_

_She gestures vaguely behind the statue that’s now covered in yellow caution tape, and after a few moments of looking he finds a hidden staircase on the back wall._

_“Hey, thanks,” he says, turning back, but Caitlin’s long gone. Cheren shrugs, and goes up the stairs. At the top, he finds a small round room containing an abandoned desk and a door conveniently labelled as the champion’s office. He knocks, and on hearing a muffled “It’s open!”, slips inside, quickly locking the door behind him._

_“Cheren!” Alder says in surprise. “Thank Arceus, I thought it was more paperwork being delivered. What’s up?”_

_“I came here to avoid committing murder,” Cheren says in a falsely chipper tone before exhaling harshly, turning away to examine the bookshelves._

_He hears the man get up from his desk and walk over. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? What happened?” Alder asks him in a gentle voice, carefully resting a hand on his shoulder._

_He shakes his head. “What happened,” he says through clenched teeth, “is that one of my three friends, who I’ve known for ten years, just insulted both your honor and my judgement, and if I hadn’t walked away when I did… frankly, she’d have had it coming, but… well, anyway, we’re not friends anymore.”_

_Silence, then: “I’m sorry.”_

_Cheren scoffs, turning to face him. “It’s not your fault. Anyway, I’d rather know now than find out in ten more years that one of my best friends thinks I sold my ass to some insensitive cradle-robbing jerk in exchange for a future League position. That being you, by the way.”_

_“She… wait, what?”_

_“Oh, that’s just the tip of the iceberg, it gets better.” He pauses. “Worse? Whatever. I don’t care, I mean, I do, but… if she’d just brought it up normally I’d have understood; statistically speaking, the vast majority of relationships with a significant age gap tend to be, well… questionable, and I’d get wanting to make sure everything’s okay.” He shrugs. “But no, instead she starts throwing accusations at me in the middle of a public street. Like… even if I was trapped in some sort of abusive relationship, why would I want to talk about it with fifty strangers blatantly eavesdropping on the conversation?”_

_Alder whistles lowly. “That’s rough. Can I help at all?”_

_“It is what it is,” Cheren replies dismissively, “but if you could… I dunno, distract me so I don’t go flying back to Driftveil and punch her in the face, that would be ideal.”_

_“If you were hoping for paperwork, I’m sorry to tell you I’ve finally signed the last form,” he says flippantly._

_Cheren laughs despite himself. “Oh no, what a tragedy! That’s the only reason I came!”_

_“D’you want me to send Jan out for curry?”_

_“Good luck with that, she’s long gone.”_

_Alder frowns and looks at his watch. “Fuck me, how is it that late already?”_

_“Because you’ve been signing forms for so long you’ve lost all concept of time?” Cheren says pointedly, to which Alder makes a vague noise of acquiescence. “But that does mean there’s nobody out there right now.”_

_“Obviously? But…. there’s no one out there, meaning — ?”_

_“Meaning there’s no one who’s going to know I’m sucking you off in your office, yes.”_

_Alder blinks in surprise, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “Well, if that would help, then who am I to deny you your coping mechanisms?_

_He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve wanted to have sex in here since you got this office, haven’t you.”_

_“I regret every day of my life I was never able to do it in the battle room,” he says, half-seriously._

_“Well, then, that settles it. You can’t retire until after it’s fixed,” Cheren says teasingly. “Heaven forfend you have to live vicariously through those trashy, pokémon-trainer-themed romance novels.”_

_He barks out a startled laugh. “Those exist?”_

_“Please, what do you think Shauntal writes?” He waves a hand dismissively. “Anyway, can I suck your dick, or did you want to discuss the finer points of obscure erotica instead?”_

_“No, that’s fine, absolutely,” Alder says hastily. “But I do want to hear more later about what happened.”_

_“Deal.”_

 

 

Cheren shuffles into the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket so tightly he resembles an accelgor, and pushes the button on the coffee maker. It gurgles to life, and he sighs happily at the smell of fresh coffee brewing. He pours himself a cup, adding a liberal amount of milk, and takes a sip, surveying the view outside the window. Arceus, it’s so peaceful here. He never wants to leave.

“I take it you’d be Alder’s new beau?” a soft drawl asks from behind him.

He totally doesn’t scream like a small child, nor does he unceremoniously fling his mostly-full coffee mug into the air. Of course he doesn’t. That would just be _ridiculous._

He turns to see an objectively gorgeous woman wearing a faintly amused expression and a floral-patterned silk scarf tied in a bow over natural dark curls. She looks like she just stepped off the pages of some fashion magazine, for heaven's sake, and she’s clearly well into her day already. She even has a cute accent!

Meanwhile, in the other corner, Cheren thinks cynically, we have an idiot wearing a blanket like a cape.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asks finally, gesturing vaguely to the pot. He’s fairly sure he knows who this is, but…

“That’d be lovely, thank you,” she says politely, choosing to ignore… well, everything. “Sorry for scaring you like that, I did send him a text to let him know I’d be over, but…”

“But he doesn’t bother to keep his phone charged,” he finishes knowingly, pouring them both coffee. 

“To be fair, that phone’s probably old enough to get its trainer’s license,” she says, snickering. “I wouldn’t bother, either. And just two sugars in that, thanks, darlin’.”

Cheren makes a vague noise of agreement, handing her a mug. “I’ll go see if he’s up, I suppose,” he says uncertainly. 

“Nah, don’t trouble yourself,” she says, nodding pointedly behind him before raising her voice. “How’s it going, Took?”

Cheren hears vague grumbling before a pair of arms wrap themselves around him and a face buries itself in his hair. He huffs out a laugh and raises his coffee mug, which is promptly taken.

There is a moment of relative silence before Alder gags, muttering, “Fuck, I always forget you don’t take sugar.” A pause, then a surprised, “Oh, hey, Anna. How’s the bean?”

It _is_ her. What a fantastic first impression he’s managed to make. Not like he’s going to be seeing Alder’s ex-wife, the mother of his child, at family events _for the rest of his life_ or anything. Cheren wonders vaguely if it’s too late to crawl back into bed and hide.

“Told you, he didn’t even get the text,” she says under her breath, then brightens. “Oh, Benga’s doing great. He’s trying to talk me into letting him do those distance learning courses online so he can get his trainer’s license early.”

Alder hums thoughtfully, pouring himself his own coffee. “D’you want me to talk to him? I can take him to the League with me when I go back, the sheer amount of paperwork I’m gonna be stuck with should scare him off for a few years.”

“Yes, please,” she replies. “He’d listen to you. Apparently I ‘don’t get it’ because I’m a professor. As though I didn’t go on a League challenge as a kid!”

“Yeah, on your gap year before going off to Castelia U,” Alder points out gently as he sits down. “He’s got a point, Lala, it was never gonna be your career. If he’s serious about being a trainer…”

“He’s ten, Alder!” She exhales sharply, shaking her head. “Never mind. I didn’t actually come here to argue with you about the bean’s career choice. I just… I saw on the news, about what happened.”

Alder and Cheren exchange a significant look. “About the League complex and Plasma, you mean?” Alder asks, resigned. 

“They showed the arrests,” she says hesitantly, “and I saw… I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am now that it’s over,” he says with a shrug. “Getting some sleep helped. I really just want to forget about the whole thing and move on.”

“That might be difficult in the place where it happened, filling out paperwork directly related to it,” Anna points out.

He makes a noncommittal noise. “I’ll make that bed when I come to it. Anyway, nothing happened in my office. It’ll be fine.”

“What, are you going to just live in your office until you get everything sorted?” Cheren asks doubtfully. “You could be in there for weeks, you realise. There was so much damage done…”

“Yeah, well, it’s like you said last week: there’s no one else who’s gonna do it, so either I suck it up and power through or the League complex never reopens. I can cry it out with a therapist or whatever you two are thinking later.”

“What would they do if you just quit?” Anna asks.

“They’d make whatever poor sap became the next champion — which is probably my not-niece, unless you want it, Cheren — do it all instead. And I’m not sticking a ten year old with a mound of paperwork taller than she is.”

Cheren snorts. “Yeah, as delightful as that sounds, I’ll pass.”

“So, what, the elite four are just there to stand around and look pretty?”

“Basically,” Alder admits. “I picked them for their skill in battling so I could avoid other people as much as possible, not for their love of bureaucracy. It’s kind of biting me in the ass now, but it worked fantastically for a good decade or so.”

“You’re all nuts,” Anna declares, shaking her head, before dropping the subject. “And speaking of nuts, here, I brought y’all a cake.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. And I mean really, I still owe you for that coffee run last week,” Alder protests mildly. 

She waves it off, pulling a cake box out and putting it on the table. “Please, you’re doing me a favor by taking it. Your mom made us take two pies and a tin of cookies home from solstice this year. Anyhow, the bean doesn’t like spice cake, and I know you do. Call it an apology for the unplanned argument.”

“Welcome to Lentimas, where we feed you whether you like it or not,” Alder mutters under his breath, and Cheren snickers. “We’ll take the cake if you come for dinner one of these days.”

“Done,” Anna says, and they shake hands. “Great to meet you, and catch up, but I’ve gotta dash. Let me know when you’re leaving and I’ll bring the bean for dinner?”

“Sure, Lala,” Alder says, amused, as she stands up to leave. “I’ll call later.”

“Bye!” She waves as she hurries out of the kitchen, and a moment later they hear the front door open and close.

“Figured that’d happen sooner or later,” Alder says, absently stirring his coffee. “We’ve been friends forever, so of course she’d want to meet you. Probably should’ve warned you to expect her.”

Cheren waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, she’s alright. Although… is she going to expect some sort of fancy gourmet meal? Because I don’t think you have any serving dishes.”

“You don’t even have to cook,” Alder assures him. “We can just order a pizza if you’d like. It’s more about meeting Benga than anything else.”

“We are absolutely not ordering a pizza, Alder. I have to redeem myself for that awful first impression.”

“I thought it went fine. If she didn’t think you were alright, she wouldn’t have agreed to dinner,” Alder says, nonplussed. “Anyway, the first words you said to me were insults, and I still ended up falling in love with you. First impressions aren’t everything.”

“I suppose,” he says doubtfully. “Still, it’d be nice to have your family like me.” He pauses, horror dawning on his face. “Oh, hell, we’ll have to do all that too — meeting the parents and formal introductions and shovel talks and so on — won’t we? My mother is going to murder both of us, never mind anyone on your side, and —”

Alder interrupts him, laughing, and reaches across the table to grab his hand. “Relax, sweetheart. Just breathe. What’ll happen will happen, and we’ll both deal with it when the time comes. Worst comes to worst, you can have my mom.”

“I thought that was the best case scenario,” he says with a weak smile.

“Is this your way of agreeing to marry me?” Alder teases him.

Cheren huffs out a laugh, ducking his head. “Get some forks and some more coffee and we’ll talk.”

 

 

 

_“I thought I might find you here.”_

_“I thought you might, too,” Cheren replies, staring steadily at the ground. “Marshal told you, yeah?”_

_“That you’ve been lurking in Victory Road for Arceus only knows how long without a word to anyone?” Alder asks rhetorically, sitting on the ground next to him. “Yeah, he might have mentioned it.”_

_Cheren makes a noncommittal noise and leans over to rest his head on Alder’s shoulder, smiling briefly when he wraps his arm around him._

_They sit in silence for several moments, until finally Alder asks, “So, do you want to talk about it?”_

_Cheren sighs and shakes his head. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s stupid, really.”_

_“Try me.”_

_“It’s just… I don’t know, I’m a bit at sea at the moment. I mean, Bianca’s working for Juniper now, and Touko’s on some sort of self-imposed mission to beat every league champion in the world, and Touya’s going to go running off after N… and here I am, the only one of us who had a goal to start with, and I’ve got nothing. That’s part of why I wanted to sort of redo my journey, but I’ve done it, and still the only thing I’m sure about is that I’m in love with you.”_

_“Champion not looking like such a fun job after all, huh?” he asks wryly._

_“Well, what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I put you out of a job?” Cheren teases him with a gentle nudge._

_“A good one. The best one!” Alder says emphatically, and Cheren laughs._

_“I mean, maybe? I’m not saying I’ll never want the job, but right now… I feel like it would invite a lot of negative attention and speculation about legitimacy, and I don’t have the energy to deal with that.”_

_Alder frowns. “What, you think people will say that I gave you the job because we’re dating, or something?”_

_Cheren shrugs. “Or that I was sleeping with you to get it, or I seduced you mid-battle to gain an advantage. Something along those lines.”_

_“You’re probably not wrong,” Alder says after a moment’s thought. “Still, I’d love to have a serious battle with you one of these days.”_

_“As long as it’s not an official League match, I’d be more than happy to kick your ass,” he replies sweetly._

_“Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”_

_“Well, you were pretty sure of my ability to beat you about two minutes ago,” Cheren points out._

_“Oh, you probably could. I’ve seen you battle, you know. But nothing’s ever guaranteed,” he says. “Under the right conditions, my volcarona could be defeated by a common rattata.”_

_“Oh, sure, but I don’t…” Cheren frowns, and quickly amends, “Well, given two minutes to rearrange my team, I can promise to not give anyone a focus sash. Or Endeavor. Although, to be fair, I’m not stupid enough to send Cleo out against Solaris; we both know that’s not going to end well no matter how many focus sashes I have.”_

_“And knowing that is half the battle,” he says, nodding sagely. He gets to his feet after a moment and holds out his hand. “Care to fight me? You can keep your focus sash if you’d like.”_

_Cheren grins and takes his hand. “You’re on.”_

**Author's Note:**

> So... that's it for "times like these", aka the BW-era portion of the story! Stay tuned for the sequel series coming later on this year, the working title of which is "this is ourselves under pressure". And please feel free to come find me on social media, I've been told I'm fairly easy to find! :D 
> 
> And now that admin stuff is out of the way... notes!
> 
> 1) Since I’m not really sure what Japan as a whole is called in Poke-verse, I’m going with the Japanese = Koukan thing that came from that Unova tv show Koukan Talk. Fight me.  
> 2) On that note: if you’re curious about the food mentioned by Cheren in-fic, go check out Cooking With Dog’s videos on youtube on oyakodon, takikomi gohan, and Christmas cake!  
> 3) Regarding the drawl? Basically, imagine Anna with a typical American southern accent. I don’t really believe in “writing out” accents, and I’m not really sure how to refer to such an accent in the Pokemon world when the only person who really has such an accent is Clay.  
> 4) Regarding Took and Lala: Took is a reference to Pippin from LotR, full name being Peregrine, which is Alder’s middle name in my headcanon-verse. I just thought Lala was a cute nickname that sounds like it was invented by a kid, since they’ve been friends since they were little.  
> 5) That malaphor of Alder’s was on purpose, by the way. “You made your bed, now lie in it” plus “cross that bridge when I come to it”.


End file.
